


Fracture

by A_N_Whitmore



Series: Fracture [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 08:36:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21389251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_N_Whitmore/pseuds/A_N_Whitmore
Summary: In two years, everything has changed for Rose Tyler, the Bad Wolf is now the leader of Torchwood. The Doctor always said she was special but just how special, he could never guess in a million years. However, one thing has been missing since that day on the beach of Darlig Ulv Stranden, the man she fell in love with.When a rift in space time suddenly opens, she comes face to face with him only to realize that he is not the man she left behind.
Relationships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: Fracture [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542010
Kudos: 9





	1. Running up that hill

**Author's Note:**

> Rating:R
> 
> Pairing: Ten/Rose (Rose pov for this chapter)
> 
> Songs: Running up that hill- Placebo cover of Kate Bush single, Allay Pain- Iwasaki Taku
> 
> Episode reference:Doomsday, The Shakespeare Code
> 
> Torchwood Series differences: Torchwood Hub exterior no Captain Jack
> 
> Disclaimer: Doctor Who, Torchwood and all its respective characters, technologies and visual media included therein reference to, belongs to the BBC Wales. This fanfiction is intended for fan appreciation or angst depending on how you take it.

_It doesn't hurt me._  
_Do you want to feel how it feels?_  
_Do you want to know, know that it doesn't hurt me?_  
_Do you wanna hear about the deal I'm makin'?"_  
\- Placebo "Running up that hill" 

Rose's voice catches as she sings the lyrics quietly to herself. 

"Rose Tyler defender of the earth."

She doesn't feel like a defender, she feels like a bag of broken china that has been hit too many times.  
Feeling the rolling of the bus over the motorway, she gazes out the window at the rain and tries to ignore the laughter of her fellow Torchwood three employees. 

Defence... How could she defend anything when all she has is memories?

"I thought we'd be running up that hill by now, I thought I'd be with you... that you'd find a way."

She continues to gaze out into the ever present clouds that seem to have become a permanent part of parallel Cardiff.  
The clouds haven't left despite the fact that the void is shut.  
Always searching for him, her mind is constantly hoping to hear her name in his voice, she looks for him in everything. 

Her heart thunders every time she sees a man from behind wearing a pinstripped suit, who has a light brown and rather unruly crown of hair, or if she happens to see a man in a leather jacket and black jumper with a cropped hair cut.

In this version of reality, the one where she isn't meant to exist; she's not sure if or even in what form the Doctor would be.  
She wishes and prays that somehow, in some way he would find her in this world as well.  
It is currently seven in the morning, yet for her it is the middle of the night.  
Things have always seemed backwards since leaving him.  
She barely sleeps, and has to force herself to eat some days; but then there are chips... she can't eat those anymore, that was their food.

Street lamps still alight on their timers, Rose can recall back to when she was in Elizabethan era. She can remember the smell of the oil torches and the feeling of a brocade of velvet about her shoulders.  
The day that she chose a dress from the wardrobe, the Doctor stated that it must have been because of her that Shakespeare wrote the part of Juliet.

She laughed at him then, saying that he had probably said something like that to all of his companions.  
He being who he was just grinned and nodded sheepishly; but now that she thinks back on it, she knows that he wasn't just spinning her a yarn.  
In his own way he was trying to tell her that she was beautiful. 

Tears start to build up in her eyes and she hurridly wipes them away before Toshiko can see her crying.  
Darlig Ulv Stranden, she thinks back on it all the time and it kills her heart. If only that damn supernova had lasted a moment longer!

She swears in the middle of the night, that she can hear his voice calling out to her; swears that she can feel his hands running over her in a way that they never did in reality.  
Rose hates the sound of the wind blowing in the trees, she hates getting so pissed that she can barely feel anything.  
She wishes that she could hold back as she pleads for someone to touch her and not say a word.

Always it's someone with a thin frame, a pair of square rimmed glasses and a tie.  
In the dark she can pretend it's her Doctor.  
Then emotions at brightness of the sun in the morning, are gathered up; the shattered remnants left of her heart she puts away, only to be trampled again.  
Last night and this morning were no different.

"I hate you." she says to herself in the mirror of that cheap motel, "I fucking hate you!"

All the money in the world can't bring back the one person that she so desperatly needs.  
She has gained fame and notoriety here, but she would give all of that up just to see him again.  
The unremarkable bus has stopped and Rose is awoken from her flashbacks.  
She pulls her swipe card from her purse and goes first off to enter her authorisation on the pad, then swipes the laminated card through the lock.

The entrance of the building on Roald Dahl Plass doesn't look like much but appearances are deceiving. Inside there is an onslaught of bustling activity as the night shift prepares to log control over to Rose.  
For the last two years since being marooned here in this universe, Rose has thrown herself into her research.

"Chief, we had a flare in rift activity at 02.00 last night, something came through." Gwen says, pulling her to the side. "I wasn't sure if I should ring you or not, we have him in medical isolation down in Owen's."

"Him... what do you mean him?" Rose questions as she pulls on her lab coat.

"Not sure... but he looks male, caucasian in his mid thirties."

"You sure we're talkin' 'bout a rift breach and not some homeless man?" She quips as she pulls her hair off of her face.

"Trust me.. Owen got here at Oh-four-hundred and started running tests, he swears that there is no way this guy is human."

"I want to see him Gwen, I want to see him now." Rose states as she walks to the lift.  
The doors to the lift open automatically and they step inside, Rose who is now used to the routine closes her eyes and prepares for the decontamination process.  
Gwen on the other hand is still shocked by the first blast of water.  
Owen, she realises is a bit of a germophobe despite the fact that he works with aliens on an almost daily basis, never really knowing if they are carrying some deadly version of a plague unknown to Earth.

Stepping out of the lift, Rose is a bit miffed at the drying process; duly noting that her hair and clothing are still damp.  
She can hear the hum of computers and various medical equipment before she enters the room including Owen's rather incessant talking into the voice recorder.

"Hematocrit levels off the scale suggesting retention of oxygen at a longer rate, supporting evidence of a respiratory bypass system. Scans indicate presence of binary cardiac system."

"Binary cardiac...Two hearts." Rose whispers this and runs into the room.

"Chief I'm in the middle..!" Owen is cut off as she turns to him and yells.

"Shove it Harper!"

She comes up to the isolation chamber slowly, preparing herself for the possibility that it may be a false hope; that this is not who she hopes it to be.  
The first thing she notes is that this person is unkempt with his knees clutched to his chest.  
He wears a standard hospital gown, he is covered in scratches and has at least a weeks worth of beard growth.

"Let me in Owen, I want to see him." She says this with her palm against the wall of cool bullet proof glass.

"Chief.."

"Just do it Harper!"

She hears the rustling of his coat and footsteps coming toward her, but she doesn't look away from the man sitting against the far wall.  
The sudden beep of the door causes the man to look up suddenly and she catches a glimpse of a face she hasn't seen in two years.

"Doctor..." She exhales, stepping into the room.

"Hello... are you my wife?" He questions her innocently, still clutching his legs with bloody hands.


	2. Damaged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor or rather John Smith has memories of his wife, or at least the woman he thinks is his wife. Yet, when he meets her, it isn't the warm reunion he has been hoping for. The cold truth threatens to break him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't seen Recovery, I would highly recommend it. This series was the inspiration for this fanfic. 
> 
> For any of you who may recall Live Journal, this was a fanfic I wrote back in November 2007.  
I never finished it due to lack of response, but as I get older, I realize that I am writing it for myself. So I've decided to continue it. If you enjoy it, let me know in the comments down below!

Some people have damage written all over them, and others you have to dig to find it.

Perhaps in this sick and twisted world, it is the only thing apparent to the man with his bloody hands clenched around his legs. He can feel it, how or why he doesn't know but it crawls over him like a ghost.  
He doesn't remember his name, or anything about who he is.  
He can smell the perfume she wears and it knocks something loose within his mind, he knows that scent.  
The smell of lilly and sandalwood over heated skin.  
A flash, a white hot flash... It burns through him.

_"Rose!" Warmth floods, the sound of panting, he can't stop... More.. keaning cries, and nails running down his back. A smattering of pain adding to the pleasure... He opens his eyes, still moving within her. A pair of honey brown eyes, gaze back at his own; her lips moving in nonsensical mutterings._

"Rose... my Rose."

She kneels down in front of him with her brown eyes wide. "Do you remember me?" She asks this quietly.

"Of course... you're my wife... aren't you?"

"No." She says this with her hand reaching out to him.

"But... The perfume... I touched you Rose... We're together."

"You don't see a ring on either of us."

"Damn it! I know what I remember, I don't think I'd fuck just anyone!" He screams this slamming his fists against the wall.

"Shhh... Doctor... it's ok! Calm down!" She takes his bloody hands in her own, pulling him to her.

"It'll be all right."

He rests against her chest, his own heaving.

"I don't remember anything else... Just your name... Rose."

Rose doesn't move, he feels her still as a statue against him.

"You... You don't remember anything?" She asks him, and he can hear the sadness in her voice.

"I can remember you."

"But you don't remember how we met? The places we've been or the things we've done?"

"I don't know! Alright?  
I wake up in this glass room, locked in like some nutter and on top of it; I've been poked and prodded like a lab rat!  
Then you come in here, and I feel like a door just creaked open in my head.  
A bloody, stupid, wonderful flash of you pops up and then woosh I remember your name!  
Hell I don't even know mine." He whispers the last bit and turns his face into her lab coat.

"Chief?" A man enters the room, and walks toward his Rose. Quickly he leaves the comfort of her embrace and stands somewhat unsteadily in front of her. It's the same one that poked him like an experiment case.

"Doctor...Hey!" He feels her breath against his neck and closes his eyes for a moment.

"Get back Rose." He says feeling like he's missing something, but doesn't know what.

"He's a friend, it's just Owen... He won't hurt me. So lets sit down, yeah?"

"Yeah, right then. Sorry there." He says as he slowly sinks back to the floor.

Owen shrugs, "I'm used to it, hostile aliens and all."

Owen turns to Rose again and continues.  
"Chief, based on these CAT scans, we've triangulated that there is some extensive damage to the frontal and temporal cortexes, as well as the hippocampus...  
It's possible that he may never remember who he is.  
On the upside, his learning processes are still intact.  
His emotions however, are dominated by the frontal cortex as well.  
It's amazing, but there are far more active areas in his brain.  
Some of them... Well I have no clue as to what they might do."

"Owen, get to the bloody point." Rose says looking down at the Doctor.

"Other than that and some scratches... there isn't a single thing wrong with him. There's no outward side of damage."

Rose brushes her stained hands against her lab coat and sighs, "You can't just keep him here then."

"But he's got nowhere to go Chief, besides... he's... well.. not human. Two hearts is odd, really odd." Owen declares.

"You've seen stranger things Harper, and he'll stay with me."

"What about his blood samples? Those are unlike anything I've seen!"

"Look, you're to seal his file now, understand? Mark it as an unknown and leave it alone."

"Understood Chief." Harper says.

Rose kneels back infront of him again, and looks into his eyes.

"You want to get cleaned up I expect."

He nods not knowing what else to do, feeling odd without a name.

"Alright then, lets get you a shower." She says cheerfully as she stands again, offering her hand out.

"Wait... Why do you call me Doctor?"

"It's your name, I... I never call you anything else, but you did call yourself John Smith once. 

"John Smith...? Do I look like a John Smith?" He asks this with that confused face she's remembered for so long. 

"Yeah... I guess, I mean if you like it that is."  
For the first time in what feels like eternity, the newly dubbed Doctor John Smith smiles. 

"Oh I like it Rose... I like it very much."

Rose gets up, pulling him along with her and she smiles as well, feeling despite what is happening; like the luckiest person alive. 

"Lets get you into some clean clothes then, and we'll take it from there Do.. I mean... John." Rose states faultering a bit.

"You can still call me Doctor if you want."

Rose walks to the door with him behind her and pulls out her swipe card, unlocking it and taking him out of the quarantine room into Torchwood three. 

There aren't many people in the halls at this time of the morning (at least he thinks it's morning), yet John feels as though they are all staring at him. 

"Doctor?" Rose looks over at him. 

"I... I'm fine." He says this shakily. 

"You sure?" Rose asks as she stops in front of another room. 

"No... will you stay?" 

"I'll be right outside the door." She says. 

"Please Rose... stay with me?" Rose nods quietly and follows him into the shower.


	3. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode Reference: The Family of Blood
> 
> The familiarity of her Doctor is there, but the bearded figure before her has few to little memories of their life together. His innocence and yet aged eyes stare into her more than they ever have before. This feels like dream.
> 
> The feeling of her pulse beneath his lips and the taste of banana on her lips continue to pull out memories that tie them further together. He needs to see where this goes even if she isn't his.

It seems so easy just to forget, to let herself go. She watches him through hooded eyes as he stares back, knowing that despite the fact he doesn't remember their life... she wants to see him let go. Yet in a way he has let go, let go of everything just to find a way through.  
He looks like an innocent child she thinks, but she knows her own thoughts are far from being innocent. She has the urge to step forward, but neither one of them makes a move; it's like a terribly clichéd love story in the cinema. Then out of nowhere, she finds herself laughing. She's laughing so hard, trying to convince herself that everything is alright but she doubles over in tears to the tiled floor.

"Rose..." She hears his voice like a whisper from the vortex.

"Go away... God this isn't real!" She screams it, hearing her voice bounce off the tiles.

"Rose!" She finds herself taken in arms forcefully and shaken back to reality; his voices edges into a brogue. It's new but not unwelcome.

"What you think I'm not scared too?"

"You're not supposed to be scared... you're supposed to fix this!"

"Shut up!" He says leaning into Rose's neck.

He can feel her shudder against him, the tears starting to soak into his dishevelled and broken body; the salt of them starting to sting the wounds.  
He wants for some odd reason to taste those tears, to taste her pain and so he gives in.  
His tongue begins to trace up the side of her neck, tasting her fear, her desire and anger.  
It caresses over a rapidly beating pulse, around to her ear and swiftly over her jaw line, coaxing a moan that he feels deep into the pit of his stomach.

"I hate you." He hears as he ghosts over her lips. He can taste the remnants of her early morning tea and a bit of a banana scone. Bananas... _"Well among other things, I think I just invented the Banana Daiquiri a few centuries early."_  
He pushes the shard of strange memory away, filing it into his mind and concentrates on the moment at hand. She pulls at the hospital gown, while at the same time she also pushes him away.

"Why?" He asks as she pulls the damned article off.

She doesn't answer him but rather pulls him up by the wrist and leads him to the shower stall.  
He can see that she's struggling not to stare at him and failing miserably.  
The water suddenly pours over him, hot... burning hot, yet gloriously wonderful and he feels a bit of tension ebb out of his body.  
He feels out of place still, as if she is the only tether holding him here. The man she calls 'The Doctor' now dubbed John Smith doesn't feel like a person yet.

It feels as if both personas are a story, a fantastically impossible story on one side; while John Smith feels like a generic name, picked at random as though out of a hat.

_"I'm John Smith, that's all I want to be, John Smith. _  
_With his life... and his job... and his love._  
_Why can't I be John Smith? Isn't he a good man?_  
_Why can't I stay?_  
_Who am I then? Nothing...? I'm just a story?"_

“Where do we go from here?” Rose mutters to herself as she grabs a cloth and the cleanser from the shelf. 

She hadn’t cleaned or dressed him since…  
It was like he was a totally different person, granted with a body that she happened to know as well as her own but still; would she have liked a practical stranger bathing her?  
She looks down at here tasteful flats, now water logged and uncomfortable as she thrusts the cloth and soap out to him.

“Ridiculous, I’m blushing like a five year old, God just please don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be!” Rose thought exasperated. 

He laughs uneasily and finds himself staring at her chest; the water has soaked through the lab coat she’s wearing and into the blouse underneath. He can see the stark smooth curves of a tan demi brassier and he is ashamed to feel the beginnings of arousal. She is not his wife as she so obviously stated half an hour before. Perhaps she was a one night shag in his past or maybe she was just a recurring fantasy star in his mind. He realises that she is holding the soap and cloth out to him and is doing everything she can not to meet his gaze. Taking the rag out of her hands along with the cleanser, which he notes, smells of Gardenias; he begins the task of cleaning off the grime and blood from who knows when.

“You don’t have to stay Rose.” He says not looking at her as he turns to face the wall.

“I can’t leave you here by yourself.”

“Come on, it’s not like I’m going to do myself in with a bar of cleansing soap and a wash rag!” He states exasperatedly.

“You can either deal with me or I’ll send Ianto in Doctor!”

“Bloody Hell Rose! You always were stubborn; Rassilon knows how I got you out of trouble!” He quips as he reaches a rather long gash on his back.

“Who or what the hell is Rassilon?” He asks himself, and receiving no answer he continues to wash.

“Shit!” He hisses through his teeth as the rag rubs over the wound, the cleanser nearly sending his pain metre off the scale.

He throws the rag to the floor and turns into the spray, not looking at Rose as he clenches his teeth.  
This is just perfect, the best fucking day ever to exsist...


End file.
